Smiles
by LiKaTaSa
Summary: He knows almost every smile she has.


He knows almost every smile she has.

There's the one he first saw on her. It is small, dainty like the rest of her had seemed back then. It's for appearances only, to keep up her impeccable manners. But there is the slight narrow of her eyes, making them sharp shards of raw emerald. They miss nothing, coldly calculating every twitch of its victim. These victims tend to be strangers that don't sit well with her. Men, more often than not, but there is the occasional female that she will interact with that would receive this smile. When she'd met her, his mother became one of them.

There is the one he'd seen only hours after he'd first met her. He isn't sure if it really counted as a smile, but she'd seemed awed, and awe tended to equate with happiness. Her eyes had been watery and large, her brows pulled tightly together sympathetically. Her mouth betrayed her eyes, however. Her lips were loose, slightly open, and her bottom lip had been quivering. The corners of her mouth were turned up just the slightest and her cheeks were blotched red with emotion. Her breaths were shuddered, and when she spoke, she sounded breathless,

"That was beautiful."

There was the smile she had for awhile after that. It'd worried him and pleased him at the same time, which did not make for a happy adolescent boy. It'd been less strained, but it'd also been less apparent. The corners of her mouth would tilt up slightly at him, but there'd be a slight turn-in of the lips, that showed restraint. Almost like she was scared to smile at him.

No, scared hadn't been the right word.

Worried? No.

Cautious? Closer...

Well, bookworm is _her_ title, he'd leave it to her to know the word.

He didn't confront her about her smile, as he rarely did at all. Besides, how uncool would it be to tell a girl that you've been studying her smiles as closely as she studied her notes?

Well, they completed a few missions, and after their seventh... that's when he met her burden of a father. There was a confrontation, the redhead threatened her partner and the teen scythe replied hotly, unaware of the older man's position as Death Scythe. The Death Scythe had attacked, the meister had advanced, and her partner had pushed her back, shifting his arm into a sharp blade. He'd felt a sharp pain resonate through his skull and then heard a yelp next to him.

His first Maka-Chop.

He'd groaned and cursed and bitched as she dragged him away, but he couldn't help but be proud of the mirth in her eyes that defied the scowl upon her lips. The inward smile she had whenever she knew she should be annoyed and irate, but couldn't help the warm amusement in her core.

After that, she never bore the 'cautious' smile towards him anymore, and he knew she'd accepted him despite his gender and bad habits.

There's her sympathetic smile. The one that came with pity-filled eyes and pursed lips and a quiet sigh.

She has the proud smile that appeared whenever a mission went particularly well or he got a good grade on a quiz. He loved being the center of her pride, but he loved being the target of her fury as well. He has to admit it's funny when her face turns a peculiar shade of red and her voice cracks with the high pitch it attains through anger. And he has to admit he has a bit of a masochistic side to himself.

After a while of moving in together, she'd started to pick up on a few of his mannerisms, like biting on her pencil, though she never damaged them as much with her dull teeth, and grinning. She could never even dream of having his contagious grin, the one that nicely showcased all of his sharp, piranha-like teeth. But he definitely likes hers better. Almost all her teeth show, and her eyes close since her cheeks push up. Her cheeks flush and her head tilts in the most adorable of ways.

There was her grateful smile that he'd seen first when they'd defeated the cat-lady, or so they'd thought. He knew that she'd been particularly stressed that month, due to the divorce her mother had filed. Even though she knew it was for the best and was proud that her mother had finally summoned up the will to get away from that lying and cheating bastard, it'd still been rough on her.

So he let her let it out.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and gratitude and her eyes were filled with apologies and thanks. He'd never felt cooler before then.

Her friendly, everyday smile is small and inviting, and while mundane, manages to brighten any room.

There's the smile she wears whenever he puts on his 'cool' act for the people around him, it pulls to the right side of her face and spreads directly out. Her eyes light with amusement and unspoken mockeries, and her hand rises up to rest on her hip while she waits for him to finish.

She's always had this maternal smile, this smile that managed to melt any defenses people had up. Whenever he'd have a particularly long week, or felt close to breaking down because of the pressure of being a killing machine, she'd flash him that smile, her eyes gleaming with understanding, and she'd invite him to do something to take his mind off of it, or offer a way to get around it. The black-blooded terror had received that smile, received the invitation to be her friend, and was saved by her kind soul.

Sometimes, when she gets excited about something and feels the need to persuade him into something, she'll put on this open-mouthed smile, pressing her hands to her lips as though to contain her glee, and her cheeks would flush with unhindered animation.

The smile she wears in battle matches his cocky smirk perfectly, though she seems much more professional. Her brows are set, furrowed down with determination and sureness. Her eyes are molten pools of green moss and her smile seems almost restrained, as though her opponent wouldn't be able to _handle_ her full smile.

There was the one he didn't like. The one that was impossibly large and showed each of her teeth, the one that caused her to complain about her sore cheeks when they'd gotten home. The one influenced by insanity, by the madness infused in his blood. The one he'd had night terrors about for months, that he blamed himself for, that gave him the chills. It made his thick blood run cold with fear that they may be in danger of a situation similar.

...

There's a care-free smile she has, whenever there's no responsibilities lying on their shoulders or whenever it miraculously snows in Death City because the Shinigami wills it be so. It's often accompanied by a light laugh, short, sweet, lacking any type of melody. Just the kind of laugh that forces him to smile warmly at her and make hot chocolate for the two of them, be it summer or winter.

The content grin that mirrors his when they're just sitting together on their worn out couch, or when they get home late from a long mission to be greeted by the stuffy air of their shared apartment.

There was this amusing smile she bore the first time she'd had alcohol. It was wobbly and released loud guffaws at the expense of her equally wasted weapon.

There's the smile she bore the first time he'd kissed her, while they were wasted. He'd picked her up and pressed his lips to her grin as her face turned even redder than the tequila had made it and her hands ran through his 'fluffy altostratus hair'.

The challenging smirk she'd given him when he stated that she'd probably be a complete lightweight when it came to shots. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, because she knew it was a bad idea, but her brows were too stubborn and determined to prove him wrong. The corners of her mouth were excited to do something so _bad, _so _normal_.

The slight smile she bears when she's relieved to be wrong, partnered with the barely-there flush of embarrassment and foolishness.

Whenever she feels playful, childish like the pigtails she pulled her blonde hair up into, she'll stick out her tongue in defiance to a request of his and wink an eye to let him know that he wasn't imagining the teasing lift of her lips into a smile.

The one that comes with the light giggles he receives for pulling her from the brink of tears with a corny joke or funny reminiscence.

The tiny smile that he saw whenever joined him in his soul to hear him play. She'd be the only one in the audience, the only one he wanted there, and her eyes would close as they lost themselves in his dark melodies.

When she was keeping her frustration and stress from him with forced smiles, the tears shining at the corners of her eyes as she forced herself to laugh in front of others and tell them she's fine. She's fine, she doesn't need the extra attention.

Please, just continue on without me.

...

There are so many smiles, so many more than here. He knows almost all of them, because certainly there are more to discover.

And today, as he tells her about each of her smiles and watches the tears pour down her cheeks in waterfalls, watches her chest shudder with tears, he tells her,

"Today... Today I see my favorite smile. I see a grin larger than mine, lips stretched with joy and eyes shining with tears of love and euphoria. This grin is gonna be hard to beat Maka, but I want you to try, because your smiles are what I've found myself living for. And I hope that you can attempt it many, many times during our marriage." He grabs her hand and slips the ring onto her finger. "I love you."

She chokes back a sob and keeps herself from flinging herself at him. She doesn't look away from her crimson gaze filled with adoration for her, and she doesn't stop screaming out her adoration in return through her tears.

The priest sniffles a bit and begins with the last bit of the ceremony now that the vows are over. "Do you, Soul Evans, take Maka Albarn to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish till Death do you part?"

Soul nodded once, affirmatively. "I do."

"Maka Albarn, do you take Soul Evans to be your lawfully wedded husband, to honor and care for till Death do you part?"

She sniffed back her tears and said with a choked voice and several nods, "I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me by the God of Death, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife." They didn't wait for the blonde man's cue, they pulled each other together and kissed fervently, smiling into each other and tears of joy mingling together. Justin laughed and rose his arms. "Family and friends, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Evans!"

* * *

A/N: Wooh... Wow. This was... intense... for me. Took awhile. But I liked it. I hope it wasn't annoying or anything... Well... Please review!


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